Test Ease

The Annoying Orange passed its MoT this morning! Yes, the sheep in wolf's clothing now has 12 months ticket, no advisories, no nothing.

This is it on that glorious weekend we had in the middle of May when me and Sam decided we were going to give it a damn good clean. I know - me, cleaning a car! We cleaned it, T-Cut it, waxed it, cleaned the black mildew off the hood, the whole nine yards. At the last minute, though, Sam decided he didn't want to be in the picture...

This is the mighty 2.3 Pinto, carburetted, C3 auto, a real performance piece. Not. It only had about 20,000 miles on it, and it breezed the MoT. The only problem is, I set the timing by ear, and it turned out to be gutless even by smog motor four-pot standards. It hasn't got enough power to pull back a dead wombat's foreskin. I checked the timing after the test and I'd set it to about 25 degrees BTDC. I turned it back to where it should be - 6 degrees BTDC - and it promptly stalled. It'll run at about 12 degrees, but anything less than that and it shudders and hops about on its mounts like a nit on a griddle. Any ideas?

On the same weekend, I also gave the daily driver Fox a bit of a wash and brush-up.

See, you can polish a turd! I even tried using the electric mop thing to T-Cut it, but the extension lead would only reach far enough to do the bonnet and nearside wing, and reverse gear's packed up and I couldn't be bothered to move it, so it has a really shiny bonnet and part of the driver's door and A-pillar.

Some parts of the A-pillar aren't that shiny, though, like the bit around the top hinge which has rusted so much that the door drops noticeably when you open it. This discovery was about as welcome as a sudden and violent bout of fizzing bum-honk in a wedding dress. A rented wedding dress. During the service.

The Thursday after that I was at Millbrook for work, and had to park the car nose-in to a guardrail. There was a shuttle-bus service to the place I was going, and just after lunchtime it threw it down with rain so I thought I'd bugger off. I got in the minibus along with this old Irish dude, and the driver asked us which our cars were so he could drop us off. The old Irish guy said "A red Mini", and I said "A Ford Mustang." "Oh yeah, I know that one," said the driver. Shite, I thought, has it leaked all over the place, caught fire, has the door fallen off? Nope, the driver has a Mustang too, a 1970 notchback. The old Irish guy started telling me how he'd just been in San Francisco, at some museum or other, giving a talk and how they had some lovely Mustangs etc. A really nice guy. When we got to my car, he said, "Sorry, who are you?" I told him my name, and he said, "Nice to meet you, my name's Paddy Hopkirk." Fist me bandy, Paddy Hopkirk! I didn't recognise him until he said that, but after that it was really obvious! I resisted the temptation to say, "Hey, I've got one of your roof-racks!"

On the way back from there, I dropped by at Santa Pod. It was the Peak Performance Test'n'Tune before the Main Event, and I wanted to see Steve's Bentley run, but Santa Pod was awash. The road from the ticket barrier was flooded, and caused my alternator to cack its knickers and stop charging. I got to the pits, and found Steve's Bentley on stands in a couple of inches of water, and nobody to be seen - everyone was sheltering from the weather, apart from one bloke down by tech inspection who was building a boat and loading it with animals. Mark Todd came running in - he was crewing for Steve - and said that they'd run an 8.4 with no boost that morning, but nothing had run that afternoon. So I buggered off, fording the river again and got to Wellingborough before the alternator kicked back in. Unfortunately, the combination of piss-wet-through driver and nice warm heater caused half the car's vinyl headlining to come detached from its cardboard backing and slap me on the back of the head.

The following day I had time to prepare the car for the first UK Power Tour. I prepared by slinging the race tyres in the boot and sticking the headlining back up with a bit of masking tape. Much later, I remembered to check the oil. James and I convoyed down the M40 - I'd forgotten how much fun the convoy thing could be - and arrived at Rye at about 1.30am. Par for the course. The following day, we headed for Rye Mini Drag Strip.

This was the NSCC contingent at Rye, with Derek seemingly saying, "OK, come on, really, where's the strip?" It's the most basic of grass-roots places but it had a place to race, a bog and a tea wagon so what more do you want? It's only a 120-yard dash with an 80-yard bum-clenching shut-down, but, speaking to the owner/promoter, there's more to come from this place.

After that it was up to Shakey for Yanks/Gary's on the Sunday, but the place was rammed and a few oil-downs meant plenty of queuing time and few runs. That evening we all headed up to York where there was a VW festival with a huge marquee and a couple of decent bands on. On the Monday, in the brackets, I found I was way ahead of my opponent so laid on the anchors and went over the line with the wheels locked. I'd still broken out massively, but was two hundredths off my PB, so God knows what it'd have run if I hadn't anchored up. Even at death's door, there's still life in the old bugger!

Talking of life, it was good to see John Sleath's Duramax diesel pick-up out, shaking down gently with two low 10s and a 9.8 on its first ever test. There's more to come, though, as those turbos are the size of dustbins.

Now all I have to do is try to coax another month or so out of the Fox while I save up for a tax disc on the orange Pinto!

Eugene

NSCC Rounds 3 and 4

NSCC Rounds 3 and 4

May 4^th 5^th

Well, seeing as we've just run Round Five I thought I might get the report for the previous two rounds written up. Unfortunately, as I suffer from CRS, I've almost entirely forgotten what happened, so some of what you read here is complete fiction and fabrication. Or possibly it isn't. I don't know – I can't remember. Now what am I doing here again? Yes! Round write-ups.

Right, so back to the 4^th of May; May The Fourth Be With You and all that shite. After a couple of tins and a good night's kip the previous night, there was much pluviosity afoot on the Sunday morning which didn't bode well. Still, it dried up fairly quickly, I think, though I may have imagined it. Anyway, there were some heavy hitters out for qualifying. Top of the pile was Andy Hadfield in the recently re-motored Twister T-bucket, and he set the benchmark high with an 8.95 at 154mph. Next was HRG15, and I can't remember who that was so I'll just look on www.nscc.info, and while I'm at it I'll just check Facebook …

… ah, yes, it's Ian Walley with a 10.3 at 129mph showing more to come, followed by HRG11, now who's that again? I'll look on www.nscc.info again and I must just check that eBay auction I've been watching...

… of course, it's Simon Boot with a 10.88 at 127mph. I wish some of you cockshites would fill in your announcer's info slips at York so I don't keep having to do this. Quick was the word, though, as 13.0 was only good enough for eighth spot – Paul Hughes in the blown Fox was there – then there was a two-second jump to Shaun Cockcroft in the hot Crossflow-powered Escort on 15.0, then Shaun struggling to control the boost on the Syclone in 10^th. Mark Butterworth with the old Y-block F100 was revelling in the delights of a three-speed manual on the column but surprised himself with a 17.9, while Lee Ward was struggling to get the El Camino hooked up and was tailing the pack in 19^th with a 19.8. Bad luck award for the day went to newcomer Robert 'Knobby' Colquhoun in the lairy Focus ST, who managed to bust his halfshafts in the burnout before his first qualifying attempt.

The sun was scorching in between the snow showers, and as soon as it melted the ice cap at the top end of the track we got into round one. Though that might have been a dream I had. Any road up, in round one, the midfielders faced off first with Andy Errington's TVR sneaking past Shaun's struggling Syclone 15.2 to 15.3, followed by Shaun Cockcroft beating Dec Hughes' Golf with a quicker reaction. Paul Hughes ran 13.8 to see off Nigel's smart little Zetec Anglia, while Fadster took it easy on his bye with a 9.5, still managing to card a 162mph terminal... Jamie Hughes was clearly sandbagging with a 12.8 in qualifying, as he managed to whip a 10.4 out of the hat to put Dave Smith out, then Simon waited 2.7 seconds on the line before taking off to run 12.9 against Rick Swaine's 19.3. Russ Pursley comprehensively hammered Scott Presland, then Lee Ward picked up two seconds but would have needed another seven and a half to stop Ian Walley. James Murray ran a 13.8 against Mark Presland's 18.6, then Keith Freeman polished off the round by pulling a 12.0 out of his bottom to beat an ever-improving Mark Butterworth in the classic Ford hauler.

Between rounds one and two, the capacity crowd in the grandstand was treated to a spot of culture in the shape of the entire Murty family performing their Kabuki Japanese theatre-style interpretation of that Chuckle Brothers episode where Barry and Paul have to paint a battleship. Again, I may have dreamed this. Definitely the bit about the capacity crowd, anyway.

We started round two with something of an upset in the race between Jamie's Land Rover and Russ's Dutton. Both guys red-lit, and although Jamie ran a whopping 10.0 to Russ's 11.0, Russ got the win under the 'first or worst' rule. Next up, Simon's Camaro ended Paul Hughes's run, the Camaro carding a 12.30, then Keith Freeman plopped an 11.7 on the table to end James's day. Andy Errington red-lit trying to get the drop on Andy Hadfield, but he'd have had to have a drop like the Enola Gay to have beaten Fadster's 8.69 at 162mph. Talking of an atomic meltdown, Ian Walley managed a 10.8 against Shaun Cockcroft's little Escort, but went over the line in a cloud of smoke that even woke the fire engine driver. Ian won the race, but that was his weekend over as having your pistons in a puddle in the sump is considered bad from an engineering perspective.

What made it worse is that Ian should have been on a bye into the semis in the following round, but the car was too sick to even break the beams. Gutted. It also meant that there were two pairs in the quarter finals, which confused everyone else even more. In the first pairing, Russ ran a strong 11.0 to put Simon out, while Keith Freeman ran a valiant 11.8 against on-a-mission Andy's 8.47 at 169mph.

This meant that the semi finals comprised of just Russ and Andy, both on solos, so both just broke the beams then backed up again for the final. It was a magnificent sight looking down the strip in the late evening sunset, the heat haze shimmering off the desert sand on either side of the track while multi-hued tropical birds swooped around the oasis on the return road and the mournful song of the Bedouin … hold on, never mind that last bit, I may possibly be over-elaborating. Either way, these two scruffy herberts lined up and were away, Russ having the slightly better reaction but his 10.9 was nowhere near enough to cover a blistering 8.24 at 170mph from the flying Fadster.

Another corking day's racing, but with some casualties along the way. Gasket still hadn't solved his over-boosting problems, and these were later accompanied by gears going hidey in the transmission. Dave Smith had a similar problem, except it was just reverse that had disappeared from his. Ian's Cortina was definitely out for the count but that didn't stop him helping patch up Knobby's driveshafts so he could at least get to the Barnes Wallis for the cruise. Yes, the Barnes was the place to be for a full nosebag with live music from Motley Crue on the final date of their farewell tour. Tremendous. Or I may have just listened to them on my iPod on the way back. But I don't have an iPod.

Anyway, you're confusing me now so, after a good night's sleep and a very welcome sauna and massage at the Seaton Ross Hilton, there was just time for a swift 18 holes before qualifying opened on bank holiday Monday morning. Despite the handful that were whores du combat from the previous day, another handful of brave souls had stepped into the breach to give us another 19-car field. Andy Hadfield topped the bill again with an 8.8, followed by Jamie on a 10.1 and Russ on 11.0. Simon Boot was closer to form with an 11.4 followed by Keith's 11.9, while in at number eight was Paul Everitt in a smart Rover-powered Pop running 14.9. Lee Openshaw was in the house with his blown Punto to re-engage in the war with his mate Dec, Lee Ward was closer to where he should be in the small-block El Camino with a 16.3 in 14^th place, while Gasket had dropped to the bottom of the heap in the sickly Syclone, his 19.02 at 72.47 just sneaking in behind Rick's 19.00 at 72.45mph.

We all lined up in the staging lanes, watching a herd of majestic Wildebeest sweep across the East Riding veldt on their way to wallow and frolic in the vast lake of slurry and pig shit at the top of the return road, and it certainly made us all feel grateful that we weren't hamsters. Waking us from our reverie was Andy Fadster, chasing the title of fastest doorslammer at York (despite the goalposts constantly moving – I blame that continental drift, myself) and opening the bidding with an 8.26 at 173mph on his first-round bye. Paul Hughes was gifted the win by a red-lighting Lee Ward, followed by an old skool Ford showdown with Paul Everitt's Pop besting Nigel's 105E. Russ Pursley put Rick Swain eight seconds to the deficit, while Keith Freeman pulled a similar trick on Scott Presland's Pop. Scott's cloned twin, Mark Presland, however, fared better when Simon Boot threw away a seven second advantage by red-lighting, followed by James Murray pulling a similar trick and giving Mark Butterworth a free trip to the second round. Shaun Wilson recovered some form to card a 15.8, but Jamie Hughes had him covered in the next lane with a mighty 9.93 at 137mph. Lee Openshaw scored a result in his ongoing grudge-match with Dec Hughes as Andy Errington's red-light put Lee through to the next round while Dave Smith just squeaked ahead of Dec to put him out for the day.

It had been a tense first round, not helped by the discovery just before lunch of the exceptionally rare – thought to be extinct – Trackbite Newt living in the grass at the side of the strip and occasionally jumping out to nibble away at the track prep. The local Environmental dudes slapped a preservation order and a cease and desist writ on the whole gaff, but after James Murray and Gasket headed off to petition the appeal court, the whole thing was overturned when it was discovered that the newt sighting was nothing more than a half-chewed Haribo that Al Perkins had lost during a sneezing fit at the previous meeting. Thank God for that, we could get on with the second heat.

It started with Russ Pursley laying down a 10.8 at 124 to bring Paul Everitt's day to an end. Keith Freeman ended Mark Butterworth's good fortune, 11.4 to 17.4, while Paul Hughes did likewise for Mark Presland, 13.7 to 18.6 and Jamie did for Lee 9.9 to 16.1. Jamie sat for four seconds, spooling up on the line, just to unleash bloody hell on Lee. In a similar fashion, the only way Dave could have topped Andy's 8.8 would have included an eighth-mile of bungee rope between the two cars.

The quarters went according to the form book, Russ's 10.8 putting Paul Hughes out, and Jamie rattling off a 10.2 on his bye. The two old Ford rods were quite a match-up, Keith's 11.7 not standing up against Andy's 8.55 at 169mph though.

There was a small drama in the semi finals, as Russ's opponent Mike Bye had a bit of an emotional meltdown and announced that he was abandoning the soul-crushing daily grind of being a circus performer and was running off to join a troupe of travelling chartered accountants, leaving Russ to run 11.6 unopposed. Immediately afterwards, though, it was all high-speed fun as Jamie clocked off a storming 9.70 at 143mph, but that still couldn't come close to Fadster's 8.25 at 168mph.

And so the scene was set for the final. Russ in the featherweight small-block Dutton; Fadster in the brain-scramblingly hard-hitting wheelbarrow-dodging T-strainer. The short odds were on the T, but upsets have been known to happen and … as should happen in any good narrative, that's exactly what happened here, albeit in a rather disappointing fashion. As the two proponents headed for the line, the excitement caused the T-bucket to turn into a wee-bucket and have a trousers-accident in the fire-up lane. It was only a small radiator leak, but rather than hold up proceedings trying to patch up a car that had already suffered enough of a pasting that weekend, Andy gallantly bowed out leaving Russ to run a solo 11.1 to take the trophy and maximum points for the day.

Another superb double-header, only slightly marred by Vladimir Putin walking onto the startline and proclaiming “Right, I'm having zis, too” before being dragged off by his missus. Although I can't remember exactly what happened, I'm sure I managed to blend the fact and the fiction together seamlessly enough to convey that it was a terrific weekend of fun, on and off the track, and even those pesky alligators couldn't spoil it for us. Cheeky buggers, walking around like they own the place when they're nothing more than some rather camp cowboy boots waiting to happen. Anyway, see you next time.

Eugene  

The Annoying Orange

Some things have been happening to the metalflake orange Fox convertible. Not as many things as need doing, and nowhere near as quickly as I'd like, but they're happening. First, the silver rolling shell that I bought in for spares arrived looking like this:

It's now looking like this:

A bundle of bits have been sold; the rest have been stashed in the unit, mostly on top of the rust-free Fox shell that's in there so it now looks like Mount Foxshite. 

On the annoying orange front, I dropped the fuel tank and the original 8.8" back axle - the latter needs returning to the previous owner.

I decanted the fuel into the daily driver, and removed the in-tank electric fuel pump. The new motor won't take 45psi from the electric pump, so I just replaced it with a length of rubber pipe and some cable ties. Hurrah for cable ties!

I cut a notch in the bottom of the pipe so that, should it touch the bottom of the tank it won't seal itself off. I also replaced the fuel filter The one that came off was a Motorcraft one, which means that either a previous owner was very fastidious about using OE-spec parts, or, more likely, it was the one it left the factory with 22 years and 92,000 miles previously. I know that after I emptied the residual fuel out of it, I tried to blow through it and nearly shat myself with the force required to get the tiniest breath of air through it. I replaced it with a UFI pattern filter made in Tunisia, that well-known industrial centre of excellence, which was so easy to blow through that I almost expected a party streamer to come out of the other end accompanied by a feeble "parp" noise. It also has to be said that if you want to change the fuel filter on a fuel-injected Fox, removing the axle first makes the job a shed-load easier.

With the 8.8" out, I got the 7.5" axle ready to go in. I'd already replaced the wheel cylinders, so I took the brake pipes and flexi off the 8.8 and fitted them to the 7.5". The original arrangement from the 7.5 wouldn't link up with the car's brake lines - they're routed differently to clear the dual exhausts - hence using the 8.8 gear, but with the car up on stands and the axle hanging down, the 8.8 flexi was being stretched tighter than Susan Boyle's knicker elastic. It must just be the fact that the axle casing is so much smaller than the 8.8's. 

While I was under there, I noticed that one of the upper arms had a rather baggy bush.

It's never pleasant finding a baggy bush. Oddly, the axle end bush had been changed recently, but at the body end, the rubber was halfway out of the housing. I dropped the arm out, and the bush was truly buggered.

The system on the fox is very similar to the old MkIV Cortina, and while I've seen plenty of ruined void bushes on those, I've never seen one where the rubber bush has got scared of the dark and is making a break for it. 

The advantage of having several tons of Fox spares (there had to be ONE advantage) is that a replacement arm with reasonable bushes is merely a trip to the shelves full of shite away. Anyway, the axle is now on, the brakes have been fully rebuilt - after a brief recap on the process when I discovered that I'd fitted both trailing shoes to the same drum...), the prop's back on and the exhaust - the original 4-pot one - has been fitted. I think it'll take a bit of tweaking to not rattle against the rear lower GT skirt, but it's all coming together...

... and just as well, because at the last round of racing, reverse gear has disappeared from the daily's transmission. It's looking less like it'll make it to the expiry of its MoT in July, and it has the Power Tour to do at the end of this month.

NSCC 2014 Round 2

Monday would be another day of racing into a headwind. I wouldn't say the wind was strong, but I watched a pigeon lay the same egg four times. With the threat of rain heading in mid-afternoon, the qualifiers were done with a degree of alacrity rarely seen in NSCC circles, with Ian Walley back on top with 10.6 at 127mph, and Russ snapping at his heels with a 10.8 at 121mph. The rest of the qualifying tree was much the same as Sunday's (cue Fluff Freeman's “At The Sign Of The Swinging Cymbals” theme tune) but up two places to number five was Paul Hughes, getting a handle on the blown Fox for a 13.3. Dec and Kevin had swapped places, Dec now ahead by four thousandths, and everybody else below that having shaved a few tenths off their Sunday times. In all, after Sunday's drop-outs, we had 16 qualifiers which made for a lovely, neat ladder.

With that rain getting ever closer, we couldn't afford to fart about, which is a shame, as it's what we do best. In fact, some of us have spent years honing our skills, and the only thing that's prevented us turning professional in the high-pressure public sector world of politics is the hope of being selected to fart about for Team GB in the 2016 Olympics in Rio de Janeiro.

Mark Presland was the first victim, falling to Russ's 10.8, shortly followed by his twin brother Scott falling to Ian's 10.55. The battle of the Foxes saw Paul's white one trounce Dave's red/black/brown one, after which Shaun bested a struggling Andy in the TVR – clearly he has fallen from favour with the almighty. Nigel put paid to Dec's hopes, James ended Nad's progress, then things started to go a bit runny – Kev beat Billy and Mark beat Nigel Henderson, both on apparent red-lights in the left-hand lane caused by the competitors rolling out of stage. It was all rather questionable, the start line marshals claiming that the wind was blowing the cars out of the staging beams, but Billy and Nigel were far too British and sportsmanlike to ask for a rematch. Stiff upper lips, gents!

In round two, Shaun lost out to Ian, while another battle of the Foxes saw Mark take the win over Paul, Paul's 13.0 promising more to come. Kev's good luck in the first round evaporated in the second with a red light against James, whose 12.2 pointed the way back to previous form, while Russ took another win to set up the semis.

The semis went according to the form book, with the yellow perils setting up another ten second final, but with dark clouds all around there was no time to waste. In fact, as Ian and Russ made their way to the line the rain was beginning to make its presence felt, and with spots starting to appear on windscreens, the final may have been a case of who was the bravest/daftest and who would keep it in a straight line the longest. That would be Ian, who managed an 11.2 against Russ's 11.4, and hats off to the pair of them for having the conkers to give it that much on a dampening track.

Two days of maximum points and a big welcome back for Ian Walley, runner-up and a gauntlet down for Russ, and a mighty fine weekend of racing for everyone concerned. We're back at York just a scant fortnight later for rounds three and four, and things are already starting to heat up. See you there.  

NSCC 2014 Round One

Easter, the time when we celebrate our Lord being nailed up by some Eyeties with a four-day weekend, perfect for a spot of drag racing. And this year saw something that has been rather lacking from too many rounds of NSCC for the past couple of years – people. Lots of them.

Rocking up just after dark on the Saturday night, we were greeted by an NSCC pit more packed full than the Pope's happy-sack. The people had already made camp, and suddenly the NSCC was looking like a force to be reckoned with once again. Late arrivals included James Murray (to nobody's surprise – I believe Biff won the sweep with his guess of 10.54pm, within two minutes of James's actual arrival time) and, a welcome return to to the fold after far too long, Ian Walley.

Some of the usual suspects were absent, many still with unfinished or damaged cars; fortunately, there were plenty of new faces that more than made up for the shortfall. By a long shot. A couple of new Foxes had swelled the ranks, including Mark Butterworth's, fresh from a serious engine rebuild, and Paul Hughes' supercharged hatch out for a shakedown. Andy Errington came out to a few NSCC events last year in his TVR, but this was his first time in competition at the drag strip proving that, at 70 years old, you're never too old to start. He had Simon Boot for a crew chief, but that seemed to mostly involve Andy drinking Simon's booze for him. Another (sort of) new face was Shaun Cockcroft in a MkII Escort Harrier with Harris brothers' stickers that promised to be entertaining. Nigel Swift finally brought his beautiful blue big-block Firebird out to play, and would spend the weekend remembering how to change gear. Nigel Henderson was another face back after a long lay-off, now with a sweet 105E Anglia looking lovely, low on steels, and powered by a Zetec.

There were a few people out taking advantage of the new rule stating that a newcomer can come out to play in whatever car they can muster for their first year of NSCC competition, one being Nad, Mrs Cattell, out popping her cherry in her daily-driver Celica. Second-generation NSCCers Dec Hughes and Kevin Winstanley were out in their Golf and Punto respectively, representing the next wave and, frankly, making a damn fine showing of themselves.

Sunday dawned bright, but with a considerable headwind that varied from 10mph to 50mph, depending on who you asked and how far they were off their expected times. Qualifying got underway with Jamie Hughes' turbo big-block Land Rover defying aerodynamics by blasting off a 10.29 at 135mph to set the benchmark. Next up was Ian Walley, heading towards the sort of times that car promises with an 11.0 at 126, with Russ Pursley hot on his heels with 11.2 at 120. Then was James Murray, the old Cortina still turning in the numbers with a 12.6, followed by Mark Butterworth shaking down with a 13.0 on the motor. Billy Cattell put the Austin in sixth with a 13.94, Biff Bailey a coat of paint behind on 13.96, then Paul Hughes enjoying the vagaries of the T5 transmission with a 14.2. Another racer having fun with a manual shift and street tyres was Nigel Swift on a 14.5 at 105mph, that terminal giving a clue of plenty more to come, followed by Shaun Wilson with a 14.8 from the Syclone. Andy Errington was next, after trying his damnedest to sabotage other racers until 3am that morning, his 15.4 being an opening salvo, followed by Shaun Cockroft's Escort, its Kent motor kicking out a 15.6. The two youngsters were next, Kevin's turbo Punto with a 15.97, and Dec 12 thousandths behind. Next was Dave Smith, way down with a 16.0, the car still in shock after its annual wash some weeks previously (plus the 60mph headwinds, of course), then Nigel Henderson in the sweet Anglia on 16.7. Nadia Cattell was next with a 17.8, and looking like she was enjoying every minute of it, followed by Mark and Scott Presland respectively, the little Crossflow rods still out pounding the strip every chance they get.

That's right, 19 cars qualified for NSCC, and with a couple more in the pits for decoration, that was the biggest competition class at York that day. Excellent effort.

Straight into round one, which started badly for Shaun Wilson with a red light against Andy Errington, the beginning of a sensational string of luck for Andy. Nigel Swift knocked out Shaun Cockcroft, then Ian Walley hit the tens, his 10.98 being a full nine seconds quicker than Scott's Pop. Another red appeared in Biff's lane letting Dec Hughes cruise through, before Mark Butterworth put Nigel Henderson out with a 12.77, bettering his time with the old motor on gas. Yet another red light shone in Dave Smith's lane against Billy Cattell, but Dave was clearly overcompensating for the 70mph headwinds. Russ Pursley wasn't arsed about headwinds with his 10.58 at 123mph against Mark Presland, while James Murray showed no gallantry with Nad Cattell, putting her out 13.7 to 17.4. Paul Hughes then beat Kev Winstanley to finish off the first round, the biggest news being that Jamie Hughes, number one qualifier, had no-showed after some suspicious bottom-end rattles caused by a loose oil pressure restrictor to the turbo.

That no-show meant that Andy got a bye in the second round, and a mysterious burning bush was seen on the return road. Mark put out Billy 12.7 to 13.5, before Ian beat Nigel 10.8 to 14.2. James ended Dec's good fortune 13.6 to 15.4, then Russ stamped his authority on proceedings with a 10.7 to Paul's 14.5.

Ian Walley got the lucky bye in the third round, while James got a lot closer to form with a 12.3, nowhere near enough to see off Russ's 10.9 though. In another case of divine, or possibly satanic, intervention, Andy won against Mark, Mark suffering from Palsy, a plague of frogs and being turned into a pillar of salt whilst recording a time of 25.48 seconds at 694mph... Famine, plague and pestilence will surely follow.

In the semi finals, Russ got the bye and still chose to run a 10.9, but then Andy's run of luck came to an end at the hands of Ian Walley, who also ran a 10.9 against Andy's 15.7. Balance was restored to the world, and good triumphed over evil. Or was it the other way around? Anyway, the septuagenarian assassin got to park the car and put his fluffy slippers on.

It also set up an all-yellow final, Russ's Dutton versus Ian's Cortina. With both cars showing high ten-second form all day (despite the 80mph headwinds) it should have been a really climactic end to the best round of NSCC in some years. In the end, it was all over at the start line, as Russ picked a cherry and Ian stormed away to a 10.66 at 126mph and maximum points from the opening round of 2014.

After racing had finished, the NSCC crews got together on the startline for a team photo. It was certainly a better photo than last year's picture at the same event, where all seven race cars lined up in the bitter cold for the photo; this year, two rows of cars posed in front of the tower before all heading off to the Barnes Wallis for a nosebag. On the way, Biff's Mustang lost fire and died at the side of the road. It spoke a volume that everyone else on the cruise stopped to help and stare at the open bonnet, possibly not realising that they were only 300 yards from the pub – they could have pushed it there, and stared with a refreshing pint in their hand. Anyway, it spoke another volume that, after calling reinforcements at the track to bring a trailer, Paul Hughes brought a trailer that was slightly too small, then went back for Ian's! After a damn fine face-filling, we headed back without incident, where Biff diagnosed a dead MSD coil as the source of his problem. He would sit the next day out, but then as soon as racing was over, fellow 5.0er Paul Hughes would donate his coil to the cause so Biff could drive home and post the coil back to Paul. That's what mates are for.

After a few rounds of beer and a few more rounds of bullshit, everyone sacked out for another full day's racing on bank holiday Monday.  

April Fools

It occurs to me that I haven't been on here during the whole of March. I'd love to tell you that during that time I've got loads of work done on my projects, but I think we all know that that'd be a crock of shite, wouldn't it. Apart from removing a few more bits & bats from the silver breaker I've not achieved much at all. Well, I've achieved something crap - all the parts from the silver breaker are now precariously balanced on top of the rolling shell inside the workshop, to a height of in excess of seven feet. If one of the rats living in the roof joists concentrated hard, he could probably start an avalanche of Mustang parts with a good, strong fart.

It also occurs to me that, well over a month ago, we had the annual NSCC Drivers' Meeting and AGM.  Over the weekend of February 28th to March 2nd, the faithful headed for The Manhattan in Blackpool to discuss the NSCC calendar and rule book and refloat their livers. It was a pretty good bash, a decent turnout and a good catch-up for a lot of folks who haven't seen each other since the last round, plus the overall atmos seemed positive, which is always a good indicator for the year.

Business got under way with the usual recap of the foregoing season, a discussion of cruises (same as last year) and the shows (pretty much the same as last year). Then we gave the rule book a good going over, and while we have stuck pretty rigidly to the same format for many years - if for no better reason than "because that's the way we've always done it" - there were some changes put forward that surprisingly went through without the usual Mobius debate.

First was the rear-wheel drive only rule. This got downgraded a year or two ago in light of the fact that some of the older front-drive stuff is now properly classic, or at least 'retro'. Now the rule states that you can run absolutely any car you like in NSCC, in your first year. This was aimed at bringing in people who might fancy having a go, but haven't yet got a car ready or maybe just want to give it a whirl before committing to building something. It's already been taken up by some of the younger guys who simply can't get insurance on anything "interesting".

The next rule was slicks for race meetings, which went through smoothly with a surprising majority. There was a points-boost for attending shows for the full weekend, with 1800 points up for grabs if you drive your car to a show and make a weekend of it. There's another points bonus for the person (or, rather, the car) whose quarter mile times improve the most between the beginning and end of the season, though anybody suspected of sandbagging will be shot with a blunderbuss loaded with fox shit and thrown to the hounds. Also, surprisingly to many, the vote went that we will run 2014 on a Sportsman tree!

The only tricky bit points-wise was the UK Power Tour. Run by the UKV8 Club, this looks like an excellent beginning for Britain's answer to drag week, and happens over the Bank Holiday Weekend of May 24th to 26th. Starting at the 1/16th-mile (!) strip in Rye, then heading to Shakey, then to York, it's a good old road test for street-legal machines. Any NSCCers participating can score points - at the end of the Tour, the highest-placed NSCCer in the Power Tour organisers' ranking gets 2000 points. The next highest gets 1900, then 1850 and so on. The best bit is that the Monday when the Tour rolls into York is also an NSCC round, so you can score points in NSCC as well! The Tour is at Gary's Picnic/Yanks Weekend at Shakey on the Sunday, and while this is an NSCC 'show' event, Power Tourers won't score show points for being there. If they did, it'd be a bit of an insurmountable points bonanza overall, with the Tourers scoring more in one weekend than many NSCC qualifiers do all year.

At this point in the proceedings, we thanked out sponsors for the 2013 season - Andy Hadfield, Simon Boot and champion John Peace. While showing our appreciation, a Unicorn ran in through the side door and kicked seven shades out of Andy Hadfield. I know I wasn't the only one to see this...

Hah, see?! There's photographic proof, though this was after the Unicorn had sold his shirt to Simon. The following photographs were provided by Drakie - there's a link to his site on the right - and due to a failing lens (his story... :-)) the photos got progressively more out-of-focus as the night went on. Which is a pretty accurate reflection of the perception of the attendees, I should imagine.

First up was Simon Boot, receiving the John Payne Spirit of NSCC award for having a nine-second car, taking it bloody everywhere including round Mallory Park and over Kirkstone, and generally being a helpful chap and all-round good egg.

Next up was Billy '4-speed' Cattell, picking up the KC Best Newcomer award. With his marvellous metalflake Austin, Billy and his family have not only had a damn good go in their first year, they've also fitted right in and are lovely people to boot.

Next there were trophies for all qualifiers, but let's skip to the top three. Now I wouldn't say that Derek Beck's luck is bad, but if he fell into a bucket of tits he'd come out sucking his thumb. Even so, nobody can have tried harder than Derek in the TVR. Even on the way to the drivers' meeting he managed to put the bloody thing through a dry stone wall, yet there he was, smiling, to pick up his more-than-well-deserved trophy.

James Murray's Cortina has been a consistent NSCC performer for 15 years now, rarely off the podium at the end of the year, yet you have to wonder how it holds together. It's been used, abused, crashed, repaired, patched and thrashed, used as a test mule and guinea pig for James' electronic trickery, yet still, wherever you look, there it is. Usually very late.

And the 2014 winner, a guy who put thousands of miles on his Mustang last year, took part in every round of racing plus a hillclimb, a track day and the Hot Rods & Hills uber-cruise, and looked like he was enjoying every minute of it, John Peace. Always ready to lend a hand, he's become one of those NSCC characters that the series would be so much poorer without. Not only that, he had engraved pint pots made for every qualifier, out of his own pocket, because he wanted to give something back to the series. Now that's a worthy winner, I think you'll agree...

So there it is, just over a month late, and now the season's started it's time to put some of it into practice. I've already had the Fox down at Shakey for some pre-season testing, and I'm pleased to say that it completed several passes without needing attention from the AA or the track clean-up crew, so that's a start. Let's get ready to rumble, as they say.

Eugene

Group B Sex

The other day I went along to the Race Retro show at Stoneleigh. It's basically Autosport for the classic/historic racing crowd, and what follows is pretty picture-heavy.

It was a lovely day, made less lovely by the guy at the gate wanting 26 sodding quid to let me in, but immediately improved by the display of McLarens just inside the entrance. Look at that, from the days when the sponsors were incidental to the race car and the power adder and limiter rules weren't drawn from a hat before the season.

Now this really took me back - when I was a kid I was well into rallying, and my favourite driver was Tony Pond. I remember seeing him tonking about in a TR7 V8 like this in the late Seventies. My dad took me on a trip to Belgium to watch the Ypres Rally in 1981, a rally that Tony Pond won in one of these the year before. No such luck in 1981 - it was won by a sodding Ferrari, I think!

There was loads of old rally tackle floating about, some of it slightly less likely than others. This Rover Vitesse can't have been too handy on a forest stage, but it looked terrific.

Now these were mental - the 6R4, that surely owed bugger all to the Austin Metro they were based on. Mid-engined, insane, and worth a small fortune now.

Ah, talking of small fortunes, was there ever a more gorgeous rally special than the Lancia Stratos? I remember watching them on the RAC Rally in the Seventies where, somehow, they still got beaten by bloody Ford Escorts!

The Sunbeam Lotus... possibly the most non-descript hatchback in the world until Lotus started dicking about with it. What was the last little rear-drive hatch in production? The Sunbeam only managed to hang on until 1981, while the Chevette and the Starlet lasted to '84. Was there anything after that?

Of course there was one car that changed the whole damn game and rendered shonky little Escorts and Sunbeams obsolete almost overnight, and it was this fine piece of German engineering. Amazingly well-built, blisteringly fast and on the very cutting edge of the latest technology, it dominated the world. And parked in front of it is an Audi.

Another car that was surrounded by a reef of slightly sweaty men with tented trousers was this, marked up as having been driven by Jimmy McRae. Behind it is a Subaru, marked up as having been driven by  Colin McRae, a car from back when Subaru were best known for building those little rust-while-you-wait four-wheel drive pickups, rather than cars for people who think that even though everyone knows a flat-four sounds atrocious, they should fit an exhaust that amplifies it.

No matter how shiny and valuable the classic race machinery is, you can't beat a good old unfinished project to draw the crowds in. This old Wolseley 1500 was the classic rally project for some university.

I think it spoke a volume about me that, out of all these classic rally cars and race cars, the thing that really made me go 'wow' was a MkI Transit beavertail. I must have some gyppo blood in me somewhere.

Even so, this beauty was hiding a 2.9 fuel injected Cologne V6 and five-speed manual. He only lives just up the road from me, too. Never mind using it to haul a race car around; I'd be inclined to race the transporter!

This old sixpence-cab Austin was a treat, too.

Meanwhile, the 'Sheep In Wolf's Clothing' Mustang Pinto project continues apace. Well, 'bloody slow' is a pace, isn't it? It's all bolted in - using actual bolts, now, not just the tent pegs that have held the transmission crossmember in for a few weeks - and the PAS is plumbed in, the cooling is plumbed in, and the fuel lines are plumbed in. Just ... well, everything else to do now.

It's the NSCC Driver's Meeting this weekend, and I'm really looking forward to it, though I have so many bits of car and other stuff to bring along that I should probably have considered chartering a cargo aircraft. Or just buying that V6 Transit.

Eugene